Joining Trina there, Mandy folded her hands. “Should I say the blessing?” she asked, hoping that might get Trina’s mind off their previous exchange.
Trina gave her a long look. “I understand that real Amish pray silently. You know, like you do at breakfast with the guests.”
This irked Mandy all the more. “Then let’s both bow our heads in silent prayer.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I’ll pray!” Trina said.
Unbelievable, thought Mandy. How will I survive the rest of her stay?
By Saturday, Mandy found herself bending over backward to placate Trina after their spat. If the woman was so unhappy being at Butterfly Meadows, why didn’t she just go back to Rochester?
Mandy was cleaning the breakfast room when she happened to look out the windows, and found herself gazing over at Arie’s house, remembering the days when they teamed up together so efficiently, making short work of endless tasks.
I’m going to fail on my own, she thought, kneeling down on all fours to scrub the kitchen floor yet again, no longer relishing this chore. After only a month.
She recalled Trina’s harsh words to her, and truth be known, Trina was right, to a degree. Mandy disliked everything about keeping the inn clean on her own, disliked going to get firewood and carrying buckets of coal to the house in the bitter cold, disliked cooking breakfast for unsatisfied guests, disliked reporting every red cent to Jerome. She felt completely overwhelmed.
Mandy knew it was pointless to go door to door again looking for help, and thus far, the help-wanted signs she’d put up in a few local businesses hadn’t netted any interested Amish.
She questioned why she continued on when the situation seemed so hopeless. And I’m so isolated here, she thought, frustrated as she realized it was largely her own doing.
Maybe I should just throw in the towel come Monday when Jerome drops by, she thought, ready to return to civilization, as Trina called the English world. And the more she thought of it, the better she liked the idea. I won’t have to weed Mamma’s perennial garden come spring!
But then she remembered the astonishing beauty of the butterflies’ mass arrival, a yearly reminder of nature’s rebirth and the Lord’s resurrection. Sighing, Mandy knew she would miss witnessing it, especially after so many years.
I’ll give it more time, she decided.
It was Trina’s idea to play a game of checkers with Gavin in the breakfast room, where a roaring fire made the place particularly appealing this chilly day. Trina couldn’t prevent the smile that came to her face when Gavin immediately brightened at the invitation and said he’d take her on.
She placed her red checkers on the board and let Gavin make the first play. The only thing missing was some soft music in the background, but given this was an Amish inn, she would have to overlook that.
While watching him decide his next move, Trina realized how much she desired this man’s friendship. She wondered, with hope, if more might be in store for her with handsome Gavin.
He’s been the only good surprise of this bungled trip. She reached for one of her checkers, wanting to win this game, yet knowing it really wasn’t essential for her contentment.
Chapter
24
The afternoon light had been subdued by a covering of clouds as Trina shopped at the Log Cabin Quilt Shop on Route 340 later that Saturday. She had been wanting something special for her sister, something more than a souvenir of this trip. Janna had seemed over the moon about the prospect of having an Amish-made quilt.
She would love all this Amishness, Trina thought while picking through embroidered tablecloths and matching napkins. She recalled last night’s dinner date at the Taj Mahal in Lancaster, where Gavin urged her to pretend she was somewhere exotic. During the course of the evening, they had shared their life stories over shrimp biryani and eventually closed down the place.
After returning to the inn last night, Trina had sat down by the coal stove to text Janna. Gavin wants to keep in touch with me.
And? Janna replied quicker than usual.
I’m deciding.
What’s wrong with him? Janna asked, including a smiley emoji.
Nothing. That’s why it’s so hard. Then Trina added: He’s wonderful, but quickly deleted it before sending. Instead, she wrote, Well, gotta catch some z’s. More later!
Presently, Trina spotted a pretty quilted table runner done in creams and greens. She picked it up and perused it closely with her sister in mind.
Since I can’t spring for an expensive bed quilt, she thought, heading for the cashier.
Mandy panicked late that afternoon, beside herself with her workload and knowing she could not use the Lord’s Day to catch up. Working on Sunday would ruin what little standing she had with Jerome and the rest of the family, if they somehow got word of it.
Desperate to clear her mind for a few minutes, she donned the oversized black coat she’d claimed as her own, as well as the scarf, black bonnet, and knitted mittens she’d found in her mother’s belongings prior to setting aside some sentimental items for Jerome to take to Arie.
The fierce wind had died down as she stepped outside. And while the sun was beginning to set over the not-so-distant snow-covered hills, it was evident that winter had taken up residence. She walked out toward the springhouse, past the large gazebo her father and brothers had built years ago, wanting to pray but not knowing where to start. So many thoughts ran through her head, and sheer exhaustion colored everything.
She sighed and took another deep breath. Even though the timing of this seemed like a godsend with my job loss, I should’ve reconsidered, she thought now, recalling the stipulations Jerome had laid out. Yet she’d gotten herself into this yearlong agreement; she had no one else to blame.
While Mandy walked, she dared to look across the way toward Arie’s house, and seeing the market wagon parked nearby, she wondered if her sister might have gone to sell some of her beautiful handiwork—crocheted doilies and needlepoint, perhaps. Arie had been a fast yet careful worker throughout their growing-up years, and Mandy had often heard Mamma speak of it to others within Arie’s earshot as an encouragement. Mamma’s way . . .
This moment, Mandy needed to empty out her thoughts and somehow navigate the oodles of work that awaited her. She knew she shouldn’t have abandoned all of it to brave the cold and walk it off, as Dat had sometimes done. “I always think more clearly out in nature,” he would say.
“If it’s not one thing, it’s another, Lord,” she began. “I am broken before You, torn up inside and out. Honestly, I wonder at times if I’m sleepwalking and this whole dreadful situation is a bad dream.”
She sighed and pulled her scarf tighter against her neck and face as a shield from the cold.
“And I’m heartsick over Arie Mae. . . . I was too hasty in firing her.” She walked along silently for a time, realizing she hadn’t admitted to herself before now that she was sad about worsening the rift between her and Arie. But it’s too late to turn back, she thought. Too late to fix.
Mandy began to pray again. “And, Lord, there’s Trina. Maybe she’s blind to it, but that woman’s words can be like a serpent’s venom—stinging and deadly. Dealing with her, along with everything else . . . it’s too much. I honestly wish she’d leave.”
Walking on, Mandy continued to pour out her anguish to God. “I’m so tired and discouraged. . . . I need help. I can’t hold on here alone any longer. Will You send someone to help me before I collapse? Please, Lord.”
She stopped walking and leaned against the horse fence and wept, cold and despairing.
———
Returning from the quilt shop with a driver the travel company had lined up, Trina walked around toward the back of the B and B, curious to see Ol’ Tulip and Gertie up close and personal. She’d had a surprisingly good time on the sleigh ride with Gavin and the other inn guests last weekend, but she hadn’t had the chance to get a good look at the horses that Gavin had described as “unco
mmonly gentle.”
She swung the sack with her sister’s gift inside, feeling surprisingly carefree and marveling that Gavin’s overly optimistic attitude seemed to be rubbing off on her. She glanced over at the old farmhouse. Is that possible?
Turning toward the stable, she heard someone talking in the opposite direction and glanced to her right, past the large white gazebo. There was Mandy, all in black, her mittened hands folded as if praying. Trina paused to listen as the young innkeeper seemed to be conversing with someone, but no one was in sight.
At the edge of the yard, Trina saw that Mandy was quite alone. She’s praying, Trina realized. And not just any prayer . . . she’s losing it.
Sheepish suddenly, Trina determined not to eavesdrop on such a personal moment, but then a snippet she heard stopped her in her tracks. She’s talking about me!
Startled to hear herself referred to as a snake, Trina stepped closer, listening intently to the not-so-prayerful rant.
She swallowed, now more tempted than ever to simply turn and run. Is that what she thinks of me?
Secretly, she was relieved no one else was around, and finally she found the wherewithal to leave. Dumbfounded and mortified, she headed toward the house, trudging into the kitchen and back to the room where she was staying.
How dare she! Trina thought, stricken. I’m the wounded one.
Then, flinging her purchase for Janna onto the bed, Trina rehearsed everything that had happened since she’d arrived, every interaction with Mandy that she could recall. Up until now, she would largely have described Mandy as kind and attentive, generous and patient.
She went over her own words to Mandy, searching for something that might have pained her. I’ve just been myself, she thought suddenly. But a deeper, more troubling realization crept in. Maybe that’s the problem.
Trina wiped away a tear. What am I supposed to do?
Convicted, she began to utter her own heartfelt prayer. And afterward, she considered how Mandy had literally pleaded with God for help. To think she was so hurt by me that she prayed about it. . . . And that gut-wrenching sobbing! The young innkeeper was obviously in a bad place.
Another thought occurred to her, one born from Mandy’s obvious desperation.
She needs help. Trina went to the window and saw Mandy still out there, sobbing into her hands. And giving help is something I’m good at.
“She needs me,” Trina whispered. “And I owe it to her.”
Chapter
25
Mandy stayed up into the wee hours that Sunday morning, folding sheets and ironing pillowcases, then mixed some batter for a sweet bread for a simple breakfast, all the while thinking ahead to her meeting with Jerome on Monday. As a result, she resented the alarm clock when it sounded at five o’clock. She stretched out the length of her bed, knowing that if she was going to have time to shower and dress for church, get coffee going, and bake the bread, she would have to get up right away.
Suppressing a moan, she dragged herself out from under the warm quilt, briefly recalling the seemingly easy life she’d had in Scott City. How appealing it seemed now. It had been a while since she’d thought about using the money from the sale of her mother’s home to start up a florist shop someplace. Along with that dream, Mandy had lost sight of her goal of making it to the finish line.
———
When Mandy was ready to start preparing the guests’ breakfast, she headed groggily through the dim hallway and noticed the light from the gas lamp in the kitchen, already glowing.
Quickening her pace, she could see Trina Sutton standing next to the gas range, setting the teakettle on the back burner. The coffee was brewing, too. What was going on?
“’Morning, Mandy,” Trina said, turning around when Mandy walked into the ring of light.
“You’re up early, ain’t so?”
Trina shrugged. “I wanted to talk to you before the other guests came down for breakfast.”
Ach, what now? Mandy braced herself as she went to preheat the oven for the loaves of sweet bread.
“I’ve noticed how shorthanded you are.”
Casually, Mandy adjusted her long apron and wondered where Trina was going with this. “Jah, but that’ll be fixed soon.”
“Well . . . maybe I can help you fix it.”
Mandy frowned as she pulled the bread batter out of the refrigerator and poured it into three greased loaf pans.
Trina smiled. “I need something to do. And I know my way around a kitchen.”
Mandy cringed. I’m not hiring her, Lord!
“You need me,” Trina said.
“That’s all right, but thanks.” Mandy tried her best to keep her refusal firm yet polite. “Besides, have ya forgotten how much you dislike bein’ here?”
“Well, it’s growing on me.”
Mandy gave her a skeptical look.
“Try me out for a few days, and if you don’t see my value, we can part ways,” Trina said, her tone earnest.
Mandy could scarcely believe what she was hearing. Was the woman serious? “You have a home back in Minnesota, though.”
“I'm between patients, so I have nowhere to be presently,” Trina said. “Let me offer my help for a while. If you accept, I’ll work out the details.”
“But I need someone who’s Amish,” Mandy persisted.
“I can be as Amish as you are,” Trina replied, raising her eyebrows.
Mandy wondered how to respond. Am I actually desperate enough to consider this?
She was, of course. And when the oven beeped, signaling it was ready, Mandy placed the pans inside and closed the door. “I wouldn’t expect you to dress Plain if you worked here,” she said, thinking aloud. “That would be deceitful.”
Trina shrugged. “You mean, more deceitful.” An almost impish smile appeared on her face, one Mandy decided to ignore as she counted out the necessary utensils, then carried them into the breakfast room.
“You’d have to wear long skirts and modest tops,” Mandy said when she returned for the plates and cereal bowls. “And if you’re going to be cookin’, you’d have to put your hair up.”
“Hadn’t thought of that,” Trina said. “So basically you want me to look semi-Plain?”
Mandy grimaced. “I guess so . . . if you were to work here.”
“I’m just being direct, Mandy,” Trina said. “Most people don’t understand that.”
Jah, Mandy thought, suddenly feeling trapped.
“You’re running yourself ragged,” Trina said when Mandy went to the cupboard for the juice glasses. “And I honestly want to help. Just say yes, and I’ll stick around.”
Mandy sighed and pondered Trina’s unsolicited offer, knowing what a huge help another set of hands would be. Can we really work together?
Mandy sat in her usual spot at the community church, next to a family of four. The school-age boy and girl sat silently, smiling at her prior to the service starting with congregational singing. Recalling her earlier resistance to Trina Sutton, she felt like a choosy beggar.
I did ask God to send someone to me, she thought later, bowing her head for the prayer before the sermon. Is Trina meant to be the answer, Lord?
Mandy followed along in her Bible as the minister read from the wooden pulpit, but in the back of her mind, she could still hear Trina practically imploring her for the job.
After church, Mandy took the long way home, by way of Belmont Road, with its lovely old covered bridge over Pequea Creek. Slowing way down as she approached, she remembered how, when Josiah had first started courting her, he had once dared to point out it was a “kissing bridge”—and in Arie’s hearing, of all things. Arie had let it slip later to Mamma, who had declared such talk, so early in a courtship, irresponsible nonsense, earning Mandy a scolding.
Turning on the radio, Mandy took in the beauty of the wintry landscape as she meandered back to the inn. If I don’t hire Trina, I’ll soon have no choice but to quit, she thought. These could be my last few days here.
>
Pondering her predicament, Mandy crept along, taking note of the picturesque white barns and the waterwheels, the newfangled “wedding house” erected on one of the smaller farms, and the Amish families on foot or riding in buggies to visit relatives on their off-Sunday from Preaching.
On Old Leacock Road, she slowed again when she came to the bridge over the railroad crossing, recalling how bumpy it had been to go over the tracks in a pony cart years before.
I would not regret leavin’, she tried to convince herself. I gave the inn my all. Did my best.
But that’s not exactly true, she thought now. Keeping Arie would have solved everything. Mandy fought back tears at the thought of her sister, though she still felt letting her go was warranted. Nearly the moment we were reunited . . .
When she parked her car, Mandy stared at the house where Arie lived with Josiah, wondering what Arie’s life was like these days.
She sighed and contemplated where she should live next. Kansas was out, wasn’t it? Despite her friends in Scott City, it was too dry and brown there a good part of the year, and there simply weren’t enough opportunities.
Then, suddenly remembering her financial situation, Mandy fought against the notion of quitting. Not yet.
“If you’re sure you want to help here, we could give it a try,” Mandy told Trina when they were preparing a light lunch together. Trina hadn’t said if she’d gone to church again with Gavin or not, and it was of no concern to Mandy.
Trina nodded, seemingly pleased, although she didn’t crack a smile. “First and foremost, I want to do all the cooking,” she said as they sat at the kitchen table over coffee and a ham and cheese sandwich.
She’s already taking over, Mandy thought, chagrined.
But instead of fussing about it, she agreed—Trina was certainly the better cook. “And tomorrow, once the guests check out, we’ll each take a bedroom to redd up.”
The Proving Page 15